The Eve of Battle
by MLHawke
Summary: What is warden Allaryce Cousland dealing with the night before the final battle?


Eve of Battle - © Melissa Cardin 2011  
>All characterslocations © Bioware, except Allaryce, who is © Melissa Cardin 2011

**EVE OF BATTLE**

Allaryce Cousland paced back and forth on the cold stone floor of her bedroom. She wrapped her dark red shawl around her, as if to shelter her from what she knew was going on around her. Her family, all deceased as far as she knew, could be of no comfort to her as she thought about dark things. Alistair, the only person who knew just how to make her feel better was just…

Well, she figured she'd be better off not thinking about where Alistair was. He was trying to save both of their lives.

"Argh!" She screamed at a blazing fire. "Damn you, Morrigan!" She grabbed her hairbrush and sat on a rug in front of the fireplace. Why did tonight have to be so cold? Even though Ry (as most of her friends called her) had only chin-length hair now, she still brushed it, as her mother used to, to help her calm down. Whenever she was angry or upset, she would climb into her mother's lap, and her mother would hum while she brushed Ry's hair.

That her mother ever did this was something she'd shared only with Alistair after the first time she awoke in camp with nightmares about the Arch Demon. She had reached for her hairbrush while she discussed the dream with him.

Thinking of Alistair only made her madder at the situation, and with Morrigan. She loved Alistair with an intensity rivaled only by the hatred she had felt when Arl Rendon Howe had murdered her family. She replayed the conversation with Morrigan in her head.

-ooo-

Ry had walked into her room, when Morrigan caught her attention.

"Do not be alarmed, it is only I," Morrigan said.

"Morrigan? Is everything alright?" Ry was concerned because, though she was friendly with her, Morrigan was not typically the kind of person you'd want to find in your bedroom.

"I am well. 'Tis you who is in danger," Morrigan answered. Ry rolled her eyes. _So what else is new?_ She thought. Morrigan pretended not to notice the eye roll, and continued on. "I have a plan, you see. A way out. The loop in your hole. I know what happens when the Archdemon dies. I know a Grey Warden must be sacrificed, and that sacrifice could be you. I have come to tell you this does not need to be."

Ry was all ears. Something that would allow her and Alistair to live? She was pretty furious with Riordan at that moment, but she might need him to help rebuild the wardens. Besides, "And, how do you know about this?"

Morrigan shifted her weight and sighed, as if she was annoyed. "I know a great many things. How I know is not quite as important as what I am offering, however. I offer a way out. A way out for all the Grey Wardens, that there need be no sacrifice." She lowered her voice, as if someone could be listening in.

"A ritual… performed on the eve of battle, in the dark of night."

Ry became suspicious. "Just what sort of ritual is this?"

"It is old magic, from a time when before the Circle of Magi was created. Some might call it blood magic, but that is but a name. There is far more to fear in this world than names."

_Oh great. This cannot end well._ "And just where did you get this ritual, Morrigan?"

"From Flemeth, of course," Morrigan was almost surprised she had asked. Where else had she learned everything? "I have known about it for some time."

Ry could feel the anger growing inside her, and she didn't even realize she could be more angry than she already was. "So you knew about the sacrifice before Riordan told me?" How on earth could Morrigan have known this and not said anything? _Andraste's flaming sword!_

"I did. Would you have believed me if I had been the one to tell you? I have my doubts."

_She makes a fair point._ She sighed. "Nothing comes without a price."

"What I propose is this. Convince Alistair to lay with me. Here. Tonight. And from this ritual a child shall be conceived within me."

_She wants to WHAT now? _Ry thought she was going to faint. If they were to die tomorrow, the last thing she wanted was the knowledge that Morrigan was the last person Alistair had been intimate with. Morrigan rushed on, "The child will bear the taint, and when the Archdemon is slain, it will seek out the child like a beacon. At this early stage, the child can absorb the essence and not perish. The Archdemon is still destroyed, with no Grey Wardens dying in the process."

Ry shook her head. She couldn't quite comprehend where this was all going. _Morrigan wants to… lay with Alistair… and have a…._ "So the child becomes a _darkspawn_?" She spat the last word out like it was a piece of rotten meat.

"Not at all," Morrigan said. "It will become something different. A child born with the soul of an Old God. After this is done, you allow me to walk away… and you do not follow. Ever. This child will be mine to raise as I wish."

_I'm NOT going to argue with that, but Alistair may have a problem with it._ Ry had to make sure not to say her sarcastic thoughts out loud, but this whole idea seemed so preposterous that it was hard not to maintain her composure.

"How do you even know this will even work?"

"This is what my mother intended when she sent me with you." Morrigan seemed surprised that Ry hadn't already figured that out. "She was the one who first gave me this ritual and told me what I was meant to do. This does not surprise you does it?"

Ry opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't find the words. Morrigan went right on talking. "Did you not wonder why Flemeth saved your life, why she aided you? This is why. What is important is that I am offering this to you now. It _will_ work and it _will_ save your life."

"You actually think Alistair will agree to this?" Ry folded her arms across her chest, and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. If she weren't in conversation, she'd be pacing the floor right now, but she liked to think she had at least a few more manners than that.

"If you care for him, as you seem to, you will convince him to. Consider what the alternative might be?" Ry didn't want to, and shook her head again. "Do you think Alistair will fail to do his duty as the future king and save his country? And if you take the final blow instead, he loses the woman he loves. How do you think he would feel about that?" Ry could feel her blood boiling. Morrigan was a manipulative bitch, Alistair was right about that. She had a knack for twisting words to do exactly what she wanted them to do, and it almost always worked, regardless of who the unwitting victim was. Morrigan pretended not to notice Ry getting agitated. "I think you have many good reasons to tell him to save his own life. I think you should consider them carefully."

Ry threw her hands up in surrender, exasperated. "Why Alistair? Why not Riordan?"

"Even if I thought Riordan could be convinced, he is unsuitable. I need one who has not been tainted for long – it must be him, and it must be tonight."

-ooo-

Ry had blocked the rest of the conversation from her memory already, even though it had happened only an hour before. In retrospect, she thought, she couldn't really be mad at Morrigan, because she was doing something… something almost…

"Selfless." Ry finished the thought out loud. She set the brush down and wrapped the shawl tighter again. She decided to push Morrigan from her mind, shifting her thoughts to the conversation she and Alistair had with Riordan, the Orlesian Grey Warden. He was the first Warden she'd met, since the massacre at Ostagar, who had been able to answer any questions she'd had.

Of course, he had also been the only one to tell the remaining Ferelden Wardens anything about what killing the archdemon actually meant. In death, sacrifice. "Yeah, _that's_ what that part of the motto means. Andraste's ass!" She threw her hands in the air. Ry wasn't typically one for cursing anything beyond saying "Makers breath," but somehow, she felt justified. Of course, she immediately felt guilty, wondering what Alistair would have said had he been –

_Alistair._ She stopped herself. She was _not_ going to think about it. The idea of Alistair with another woman made her heart ache, and she couldn't muster the energy to feel that just then. Even if what he was trying to do was save her life, and his own, it brought a physical pain to her chest.

Arch demon. Thinking about that vile beast would get anyone's mind off just about anything else. She didn't know what the best plan of attack would be. She wanted Riordan to be the one to make the killing blow. She felt as though it would be some kind of revenge for being left in the dark about the… death part. She and Alistair had something to live for – each other. And Ferelden.

_Alistair is going to live to be king. He has to_. Ferelden could only survive without a ruler for so long, and the whole country would be damned to the Void if Anora took over. Alistair had made a deal with her that if he didn't survive the battle with the archdemon, Anora could have the throne.

"Well, I'm not going to let _that_ happen," Ry vowed out loud. She decided right there that she would be the one to make the final blow if Riordan didn't make it to the archdemon. Now what she needed was a plan of attack. What was going to be the best way to keep Denerim from falling?

_Riordan, no doubt, has that figured out already¸_ Ry thought sarcastically. After surviving the attack on her parents' estate, she had a few ideas of her own. Granted, Denerim was substantially larger, but she knew if they could at least block off the gates, it would be a start.

She didn't know a think about killing the archdemon. With any luck though, she wouldn't have to. Darkspawn? Piece of cake. Drakes? Sure! Even a high dragon had proven no match for her and her companions. But, how do you fight an old god?

At least, that's how Morrigan had described the beast.

Ry sighed. "Morrigan…"

She didn't know if she could trust Morrigan, but there had to be a backup plan in case her "ritual" didn't actually work as she intended. "Ugh! That ritual…"

Ry didn't know how late it had gotten, and she yawned. She thought about going to spend the rest of the night in Leliana's room, but figured her friend was probably sleeping by now. She pulled her shawl up around her shoulders again, and lay down on the rug, staring at the fire. She was scared.

-ooo-

The door creaked open slowly, letting in the bright light from the candelabras in the hall. He was afraid Ry was sleeping, and he didn't want to wake her. The door opened wide enough to blanket the bed in light, and Alistair saw that the bed was empty and still made. He was startled by the sight, but a soft sigh drew his attention to the shape on the rug by the barely burning fire. He drew in a deep breath, and grabbed few logs from the wood rack just outside the door. He placed them as gently as he could on the dying coals. He couldn't have his love sleeping in a cold room. He longed to pick her up and tuck her comfortably into bed, but he knew she needed rest, and he would let her get it wherever she could. He grabbed the blankets from the bed and covered her with them. Then, he sat on the floor by her head, watching her sleep, almost meditating on the sound of her breath. He lightly stroked her hair, hoping that if any of her were still awake, she would know he was back, and would feel how much he loved her.

It had been fate that brought them together, and Alistair was forever thankful that Duncan had seen that spark of a Grey Warden in her. The circumstance bringing Ry to the Wardens had been a tragic one, he had to admit, but he was grateful nonetheless.

He focused his eyes on his future queen, the familiar curves of her body rising and falling. Surely the people of Ferelden had to love someone as kind and determined as she. And yet, there was the distinct possibility that the day would never come that he could call her such. Despite Morrigans "ritual," there was still the possibility that she may not survive the archdemon, or even the fight to the archdemon. Of course, he may not either.

He shook his head at the thought. He knew he didn't want Ry to make the killing blow. He resolved that, if he had to be, if Riordan failed at his task, then he would be the one to do it.

_Morrigan is so certain this will work,_ he thought. The next thought made him grimace. _Morrigan is a witch, and she's never liked me._ He could only hope that Morrigan and Ry were friendly enough that Morrigan actually wanted to help.

He realized that he'd stopped moving his hand through her hair. A happier time popped into his head, and he allowed himself to smile as he weaved his fingers into her hair.

-ooo-

He had approached her in camp. Ry and Leiliana were discussing their adventures, but when she saw him come over to her, she gave a girlish smile to Leiliana, who had just enough tact to know when to leave.

"Hey there," Ry said to him. "What's going on?" She eyed the rose he was carrying, then looked up at him. She was sitting on the ground by the fire, and she motioned for him to join her. He couldn't refuse that offer.

"Here," Alistair said to her. "Have a look at this. Do you know what this is?" _Oh Maker, she's going to think that I think she's an idiot!_

"Um, is this a trick question?" She flashed him a smile that made his heart quicken.

He grinned back. "Yes. Absolutely. I'm trying to trick you. Is it working?" He chuckled, "I just about had you, didn't I?"

She couldn't help but laugh.. As he watched her, the smile faded, and she became more serious again. "You've been thumbing that flower for a while now." She tucked her hair behind her ear. Alistair had noticed that she played with her hair when she was nervous.

_If only she knew I was just as nervous as she is!_ "I picked it in Lothering. I remember thinking 'How could something so beautiful exist in a place with so much despair and ugliness.' I probably should have left it alone, but I couldn't." He rushed on speaking. He didn't want her to think less of him for picking what could have been the last rose in Lothering. "The darkspawn would come, and their taint would just destroy it. So I've had it ever since." He glanced back at the flower in his hand, then back to her.

She allowed him another smile. "That's a nice sentiment." She adjusted her position so she could better look at him. _Makers breath_, he thought. The way the firelight danced on her face made his heart flutter.

"I thought I might… give it to you… actually. In a lot of ways, I think the same thing when I look at you."

She let out a startled gasp. Was this starting to go… no. There was no way he felt the same for her as she did for him. "Thank you, Alistair. That's a lovely thought." She meant it, too. The sentiment behind his words made her feel… What _was_ that feeling?

"I'm glad you like it. I was just… thinking… Here I am, doing all this complaining, and you haven't exactly been having a good time of it yourself. You've had none of the good experiences of being a Grey Warden since your joining. Not a word of thanks or congratulations. It's all been death and fighting and… tragedy. I thought maybe I could say something… let you know what a rare and wonderful thing you are amidst all this… darkness."

"So, are we married now?" She grinned

He laughed "Ha! You won't land me that easily, woman! I know, I'm quite the prize after all. No need to start crying or anything on me…" He got serious again. "I guess it was just a stupid impulse. I don't know." He paused and looked her in the eye. "Was it the wrong one?"

"No, it wasn't. Thank you, Alistair." She looked back into his eyes for a second, then broke the eye contact to look at the flower. She lifted it to her nose and inhaled. The scent was heavenly. She'd forgotten how beautiful roses were.

"I'm glad you like it." He stopped to clear his throat. "Now, if we could move right on past this awkward, embarrassing stage, and get right to the steamy bits, I'd appreciate it."

Ah, there it was – his deflection with humor was back. It was actually a quality about him that she liked. It was kind of… cute. She turned to face him and started to reach for one of his gauntlets. "Sounds good, off with the armor."

"Ha! Ha ha! Bluff called!" He pretended to turn away and say, "Damn, she saw right through me."

"You're so cute when you're bashful!" She looked back at him and grinned.

Alistair stood up. "Ah ha… I'll be standing over here… until the blushing stops… just to be, ah… safe. You know…" He walked away, but sneaked a peek back, to see her grinning and smelling the rose again. He smiled and went into his tent for the night.

-ooo-

The sun's first rays were streaking between the heavy red curtains in the bedroom. Alistair didn't remember falling asleep after going into Ry's room. He sat up and stretched, stiff from sleeping on the stone floor. He was glad to see her still sleeping. He smiled and leaned in to kiss her hair softly. Her hair always seemed to smell of lilacs and vanilla, but he was never sure how. It was comforting, and he drank in the scent of her.

She stirred and rolled over, but her eyes stayed closed. She pulled the blankets to her chin and inhaled slowly.

"Alistair?"

"I am here, my love."

"Alistair… I…." She was still groggy and couldn't get the words out.

"Shh. I know, you missed me, didn't you? Well, if you weren't such a sleepy head…" He joked and he tousled her hair.

"Hey!" She playfully swatted his hand away as she opened her eyes. "Andraste's knicker weasels!"

She became serious again almost immediately, remembering suddenly what had occurred the night before, and what the day had waiting for them.

"Alistair, I need to know. Is it… I mean… did you…?" Why couldn't she form the words? She so hoped the whole previous day had been a dream.

"Well… ah… yes." He rubbed the back of his neck, looking quite uncomfortable about Morrigan's ritual. He didn't particularly enjoy it, despite her reassurance that he would, but he thought discussing it, especially with Ry, was like a fate worse than death. He reached out to her and ran his fingers along the blankets covering her body. He wanted to give her faith that his feelings for her were true and unwavering. He needed her to know that he loved her with the same fierceness he fought with on the battlefield. The next thought in his head was the first night they had been together in her tent. He had been so nervous! He had been… new to all of that. He had wanted to be a gentleman, but at the same time, he couldn't let this chance get away. He needed her with an ache he'd never known before.

-ooo-

His hands were trembling when he was near her that night. He wanted to speak to her so badly about this, but he didn't want to… push her. "I, ah, I really don't know how to ask you this."

"Ask me what?" She turned to face him.

"Oh, how do I say this? You think it would be easier… but every time I'm around you I feel like my head is about to explode. I can't think straight!" He threw his hands into the air as if to emphasize the point.

"I feel the same way." She lifted her lips into a half smile, and her expression softened.

"Well, I hope you mean the head exploding thing in a good way. Here's the thing… being near you makes me crazy. But, I can't imagine being without you. Not… ever. I don't know how to say this another way… I want to spend the night with you. Here, in the camp." He rushed on, "Maybe this is too fast, I don't know, but, I know what I feel."

"You want to spend the night? Are you sure?" Ry knew that this must have been a momentous decision for him. She tucked her hair behind her ear, then grabbed his hand.

"I wanted to wait for the perfect time, the perfect place, but when will it be perfect? If things were, we wouldn't even have met. We sort of… stumbled into each other. And despite this being the least perfect time, I still found myself falling for you, in between all the fighting and everything else. I really don't want to wait anymore. I've… I've never done this before, you know that." He paused for a moment and shifted his weight. "I want it to be with you. While we have the chance. In case…"

"No need to say anything else. I agree." He felt her hand slide behind his neck, and the next thing he knew, she was kissing him with an urgency he could only define as desire. He knew the feeling all too well in the last few days.

When they were alone in her tent, he kissed her, slowly at first, in case she wanted to change her mind. Makers breath, he had no idea what he was doing! But he knew she was right. Her smile made him melt, her touch made him shudder, and her kiss shook him to his core. He could just feel it in his very being that he could never love another – she was his only love.

As he watched her undress in the glow of the lantern, he couldn't help but reach out and run his and over her milky skin. He ached to know ever curve of her body in the most intimate way…

He remembered the way he first felt when he saw her in just her small clothes. She was so beautiful, and he couldn't have loved her more in any other moment.

-ooo-

He forced himself back to the present. He had to be at his best to face the task at hand, and as much as he loved her, thinking about that first night together sure wasn't going to kill that arch demon.

She looked up at him, wondering what he was thinking. _Maker!_ She thought. He took her breath away ever time she looked at him. "Do you think this is going to work?"

He smoothed some of her hair and tucked it behind her ear. "We can only hope Morrigan was telling the truth."

Ry grabbed his hand. "Alistair, I need…" She was going to tell him of her decision to sacrifice herself for him, but she decided it was best that he not know. She knew him well enough to know he would do anything in his power to stop her.

She sat up next to him. "I just…" she started again. She couldn't bring herself to tell him how scared she was. She needed to be sure everyone was ready to face whatever came their way, and they were going to look to her for confidence.

He cupped her face in his hands. "You know, I don't think I could have made it this far without you. You have been the guiding light for me, and for our little band of troops." He dropped his hands into his lap and looked down. "I want to tell you, I think you'll be a wonderful queen for Ferelden. When we get through this – and we _will_ get through this – I will be a happy man just to have you by my side. I am so proud of you, and I pity any archdemon that crosses your path. I love you, Allaryce."

With that, Ry fell into his lap and began sobbing. "Was it something I said?" He asked.

"No, no!" She cried. "Alistair, I am so scared! Today, we go after a horrific dragon that could kill us before we kill it. You had to participate in that… in that… _ritual_, and we don't even know if it will work. My family is _dead_, Alistair. They're _dead_! You are all I have left, and we don't even know if we'll have another tomorrow." As the tears came harder, she could barely choke out the last words. Ry hated looking weak, but she couldn't hold it back any longer.

"Hey now, love. Hey…" Alistair wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his lap. She curled up against his warm bare chest, letting the tears flow. This was a side of her he'd never seen. He had seen her as a fighter, a lover, and knew she could have a good time when the mood struck. He smiled quickly at the memory of the dance party she'd managed to start at the Gnawed Noble Tavern, but knew this wasn't the time. This emotion from Ry was new to him, and he wasn't sure how to respond. He hugged her and kissed her head. She was vulnerable, and she needed him.

"Ry I don't think Morrigan would lie to you. Me, maybe, but not you. I think her little ritual will work. I _know_ it will work. And you! Maker, you are a fiend with those daggers of yours! We didn't make it this far only to fail now. I won't let anything happen to you. I won't!" His voice was fierce. She pulled away to look up at him. Her face was streaked with tears.

"I love you." He said it so gently, so sincerely, that Ry could have melted into him. Alistair put a hand to her cheek to wipe away tears, and buried his face in her hair.

"And I love you." How could she say more? She just wanted to stay in that exact place forever. To forget the blight, the arch demon, Riordan, Morrigan, everything, and just stay in that place, where he had started kissing her hair, her eyes, her cheeks, her lips…

She wrapped her arms around him, and kissed him with an intensity neither of them had felt before. She could only hope to convey how much she cared for him. He pulled away just enough to say "Make – " but she stopped him with a kiss. She knew they had pressing matters to take care of, but she couldn't let herself leave the safety of Alistair's arms.

He slid one hand to the back of her neck, and putting the other hand under the blanket, slid it up her thigh, under her night dress, and rested it on her hip. She let out a soft moan. She let one of her hands wander up to his hair, and she wound her fingers through it. With the other hand, she followed the curves of his muscular chest, and she traced the outline of his lips with her tongue.

The tears were still coming, but Ry tried not to let them show. The thought had crossed her mind that this could be the last time they would touch each other like this, and she couldn't ruin it.

She focused on the fact that Alistair was kissing his way down her neck slowly, stopping to linger around her collarbone. He deftly untied the laces on the front of her night dress with just one hand, and proceeded to kiss the newly exposed skin. She wrapped herself around him, nuzzling against the top of his head, her hands massaging his back and arms.

A soft knock at the door was all that could pull them back into the here and now. Ry was mostly decent, though she had to readjust her night dress. Alistair was still clothed from the waist down. "Yes?" He called. The door opened slightly and Wynne poked her head in. She blushed when she saw the two of them curled up on the floor.

"I'm so sorry to intrude," she said, "but your Warden friend? Riordan? He is looking for you both."

Alistair looked at Ry and let out a forlorn sign before he looked back at Wynne. "Okay," he said. "Tell him we're coming. We'll meet him downstairs shortly."

Wynned bowed slightly and backed out of the room, closing the door behind her. Alistair looked back to Ry, this time with a confused grin on his face. "Did she just… bow?"

Ry wiped the remaining tears from her face and let out a half laugh. "Yes. Yes, I believe she did... _your majesty_."

Alistair playfully attacked Ry, tickling her. She laughed hard, and he laughed with her. The sound of her laughter soothed his soul. When the play fight had stopped, he picked up her shawl from the floor next to him, and wrapped it around her shoulders. "Well then, _my queen_, we'd better go see what it is Riordan has to say."

Alistair kissed Ry again, with a long, loving kiss before leaving the room to dress. The day had dawned. That day, they would find out how it all would end.


End file.
